Smile
by BlowMyHeartUp
Summary: Mikey's thoughts as they try to piece Donnie back together...


_Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT._

_I apologise for not writing much recently :(_

_This is quite short too... blah... sorry._

_This is for you, you know who you are... I want to put *huggle* :P_

_Okay so... wrote this veerry late at night and I'm probably gonna get this face -_- And I'll probably get shouted at. But I had to write it. My alarm's gonna go off in half an hour! :O_

_So without further ado..._

* * *

First thing I noticed when I walked in was the smell... usually smells like coffee... now it smells like sick... smells like Raph said it would. Smells of death. Now I know how close it was. Now I know for sure it wasn't some sick joke my brother was playing on me, even though that naiive part of my brain kept saying Donnie would leap up off the bed and shout, "Almost April Fools!"

But he carries on breathing shallow. Wires hooked up to him like he's one of the computers he's built up only to have them crash and break down from over use... from viruses... from having too much crammed into their system. Even when it starts freezing up or sticking, loading slower, losing energy, doesn't matter, people keep pushing. They'd rather solve their own problem out before sorting out whatever's gone wrong on their computer... just click this button in the corner and it can even fix itself!

That's Donnie now, lying in the bed. Used. Over worked. Burning out.

I can hear Raph talking, don't know what he's saying. I don't even try to make out the words. Feels like I've gone deaf. I fumble with the box full of antibiotics. Now I know. Got my wish. I know what happened. Donnie... damn it, why'd you do that? Don't you know how much we love you? I guess not. We do treat you like crap. That's changing from now on. That's gonna change. Stupid box... I can't find how to open the thing. I sigh frustrated as the door clicks closed.

Huh. Must have been someone else in here. Raph was talking to them, not me. Good. Don't want him to think I'm ignoring him or anything. Don't want anybody else hurt. Not anymore than they already are anyway. I start listening to Raph now. We had to figure out what he had ourselves, had some help from friends, took a good part of the day to guess at what it might be. I get the box open and pull out syrup, not pills. Raph is relieved, means we don't have to force pills down his throat... 875 mg every 12 hours, he says. I checked the clock. It's eight at night. Only that early? Only eight? How come it feels like I've been awake for days then?

I guess Donnie's breakfast for the next few weeks is gonna be medicine. First thing he knows in the morning and the last thing he knows at night. Hope he's up to eating tomorrow. I can make him soup. That'd be nice, huh, Donnie? Some famous Mikey soup?

What's wrong with me?

Why aren't I crying? Why aren't I feeling anything? If I feel something will I breakdown too? If I feel something will that pain in my chest come back? That stabbing in my gut?

Before I know it I'm talking to him. To Donnie. I have a smile plastered across my face. Kinda feel like the joker. That'd be awesome any other time but not right now. Maybe that's what I need to do? Draw on a permanent smile. Seems like that's what everyone's after. He's awake and he's answering me by flicking his fingers at the palm of my hand weakly. One for yes, two for no... three for, "You're waaaay off what I'm trying to talk to you about, dude." I can tell he's frustrated. Desperately needs to tell me something.

Eventually I figure out that he wants me to stay. Alone. He wants Raph to go.

Alone together now. He's holding my hand weakly, one brown eye barely visible under his eyelid as he tries to look at me. I try reassuring him, that everything will be okay, tell him I love him. I climb on to the bed with him, cuddling close, blanket's wrapped around us, same one we had when we were little. I kept it.

...

Next thing I know I'm jerking awake. Stupid nightmare... stupid shadow... following me... watching us while we sleep.

Now I'm tripping over nothing, stumbling blindly out of the lab. Away from the smell. Away from the hurt and the pain and the drama... into the bathroom. I lean over the bowl until you come in. And you stand there in the doorway and you reassure me as I run around panicking like a some crazy guy, wailing and screaming. I don't listen to you until you hold me close and I have a look in your eyes, sparkling like emeralds.

And now I can see. I can see that everything's good. Everything's beautiful. Because I'm here, you're here, our family is still here. Donnie is recovering now... he'll get better... we'll fight for him and make sure he does. And we'll make him breakfast tomorrow and the day after that and after that. We'll take real good care of him from now on. Give him the love he deserves. Show him the love he deserves. Everything's gonna be okay now.

So we say goodnight and I dry my eyes and I climb back into bed besides him trying to pass on that feeling in my heart... that little light that says everything's gonna be okay. I smile.

"Love you, bro."


End file.
